Wendi Christner
Bio
There’s a bit of Southern grit in everything I write.
Stories (5/0)
Grandpa's Ax
Wind whistles around the dilapidated shed. I’m huddled, back against the rough plank door, chin on my knees, arms wrapped around my shins. I barely dare to breathe. My husband’s footsteps fall to a stop in the thick leaves outside. His shadow blocks the sun coming through a crack in the wall. Across the dark, crowded room, Grandpa’s ax hangs on a nail. If I can get to it before the man outside gets to me…
By Wendi Christner3 years ago in Humans
Collision Course
You like to tempt Fate, don’t you? Ain’t it a thrill to have her ride shotgun while you haul ass from the latest mess you created? Or to call her up time and again like some lover who can’t quit you? Do you believe she will always go along for the ride, sit pretty as far as you’ll take her? Maybe I should tell you something before you forget who you’re playing with. I see Fate every time I look in the mirror, and it isn’t just the name my mama gave me. Believe me when I say I might be your lover, but I can quit you. Just like that.
By Wendi Christner3 years ago in Humans